Pile of rocks sympathizes with dead dog
by cornwallace
Summary: The only thing that keeps me alive is the hope of dying young.
1. BFF

_  
>BFF <p>

* * *

><p>FUCK.<br>You should be dead right now. You should be dead and you're right fucking here, looking me right in the eye.  
>Not dead. Not yet.<br>With that stupid fucking grin on your face.  
>You're not dead yet, but I want you to be. I really fucking do.<p>

"So, I was thinking we could like, go to the mall or something, right?" Hand on her hip, she cocks her hip out to the right. Trying to be cute. "Maybe pick up some guys?"

Insufferable.

"Did god put a fucking recovery stone in your cunt or something? What the fuck are you?"  
>"Um," she says, dumbly raising her finger to her mouth. "I'm a hedgehog, I think. Why do you ask?"<br>"How many times have I tried to kill you now?"  
>"Three, I think. I'm pretty sure it was three."<br>"Why won't you die?"  
>"Silly Sally, I'm too kawaii to die. ^_^"<p>

She makes me want to do cruel and unnatural things.

With that fucking smile on her face.  
>"You didn't answer my question, though."<p>

I'll kill her again, later. For good this time. When we're not in public.  
>Set the bitch on fire this time. Scatter the ashes at the four corners of Mobius.<p>

"Sally?"

Fucking Amy Rose.  
>Teenage fangirl strumpet.<p>

She's the reason I'm in this fucking mess.

It all started when she stole my goddamn boyfriend. That's when things fell apart and my life turned to shit.  
>When I tried to kill her the first time. Strangled her on national television. Wrung her neck until her pink face turned blue and her eyes popped out of her fucking head. Her swollen red tongue protruding from her ugly face.<p>

"Sally? Are you listening?"

The public doesn't take to kindly to that.  
>The public doesn't want a queen that strangles "innocent" citizens.<br>The public doesn't mind revolting and tearing your power away from you with brute force.

I'm lucky they left me alive.

He wasn't even worth it. She was just there, provoking me.  
>For some stupid reason, she's always been under the impression that we're friends. No matter what I do to her. No matter what I say to her. No matter how many times I ask her nicely to leave me alone, or throw her down the stairs.<p>

"SALLY!"  
>"What? What the fuck do you want?"<br>"Wanna go to the mall? Pick up some guys."

I just stare at her for a moment, wanting her dead with every ounce of my body.  
>Wanting to force my goddamn thumbs into her eyeballs, pushing them into her tiny, insignificant brain. She's screaming for mercy, eardrum shattering shrieks emit from her good-for-nothing-other-than-sucking-cock whore mouth of hers as I mash her vision into her worthless fucking noodle, retracting my bloody thumbs and by god, I'd lick them fucking clean, I swear to god, savoring the coppery flavor of the blood on the chunks of brain matter clinging to my phalanges and laugh hysterically as she drops limply to the floor, in a crying, agonizing heap of slut.<p>

"Is that a yes?"

* * *

><p>"I'm so glad you decided to come with me, Sally," she says, merrily walking beside me. Almost skipping really. She is concentrated nauseam, just like the place she brought me to.<p>

How the fuck did she talk me into this?

The mall is like the castle that spawned this... thing.  
>Her eyes filled with wonder as she excitedly looks around at the many shops, and patrons carrying bags of overpriced, ultimately useless shit. As if she's never been here before.<p>

"Ooo! We should stop by Cornelius and Pomme. They have great deals on shoes. Or Hallamanders. They have better shoes. Higher prices, but like, better shoes. Why are shoes so expensive, you think? Haha, why am I asking you? Like you know anything about shoes! Your boots are so ugly." Heel clicks as she pauses, dumb fake smile on her face, freezing in the middle of the crowd. "We should give you a makeover!"  
>"No, Amy, I'm not gonna do that."<br>"Oh, come on! It'll be fun, and you might end up actually looking cute for once."  
>"I look FINE," I say, fists tightening. Urine splashing against the tile beneath me, making a little puddle between my feet. She stares at me with a dumbfounded expression on her face Like always.<br>"Uh. Let's just go pick up some guys."  
>"I don't, uh. I don't do that."<br>"Uh, Sally?" she asks looking around, worriedly.  
>"What?"<br>"Are you a lesbian?" she whispers to me, leaning in. "Because that might make things weird."  
>"What?"<br>"You know, like slumber parties and stuff," she says, blinking. "I don't think I'm comfortable with you sleeping in the same room with you if you wanna, you know. Like. Lick my vagina, or something. It's a little weird."  
>"What?" I repeat, pissing again.<br>"Okay, like, I wasn't gonna say anything before, mostly because I didn't know what to say to that, but like, that pissing thing is really gross. You should wear a diaper or something. Why don't you ever wear pants?"  
>"I piss when I'm angry. Deal with it, slut."<br>"I'm not a slut!"  
>"Getting onto me for not wearing pants," I say angrily, crossing my arms. "Bitch, you're nothing but cleavage and miniskirts. All your potential pissed away because you know you can always get by on the possibility of revealing even more of yourself than you already are. You're a deviant little slut who gets off on the attention and abuses the benefits. Once you lose you're looks, you'll be just as lonely and pathetic as I am, only without having done anything constructive, or good with your life."<br>"Hmmm." Blank stare. "I'm afraid I don't know what any of that means."  
>"Of course you don't. I bet you love being called a slut in bed, don't you?"<br>"We should go to the bar!"  
>"Now you're speaking my language."<br>"The bar is a great place to pick up guys."

Ugh.  
>Jesus fuck. <p>

* * *

><p>"Cosmos, please!" she says, winking and throwing up two fingers while cocking her waist to the side. "Two of them!"<p>

Did she seriously just do that?

"Fuck that," I tell her, before turning my attention to the bartender. "I want rocket fuel."  
>"Uh, alright," he says pulling out a shot glass and turning around.<br>"Nonono. Drink."  
>"What?"<br>"Drink. Not a shot. I want it as a drink."  
>"Uh, lady. I don't think you should do that."<br>"Just get it."  
>"Do you know what's in a rocket fuel?"<br>"Yes. And I want it as a drink," I demand. "Now."  
>"Uh. Comin' right up, I guess."<p>

Damn straight.  
>Amy nods to a section at the bar next to a couple of guys.<br>I sigh, and follow her, because I'm an idiot.

"Hey there," she says, puffing her chest out. "These seats taken?"  
>"By you," the cat on the right says. To the left is a hedgehog. I fucking hate hedgehogs. They are all fucking insane.<p>

We sit and the bartender sets our drinks in front of us. I chug mine.

It's good.

Amy leans in close to me, and begins whispering in my ear.  
>"You mind if I take the cat? Those are still on my to-do list."<br>"Do whatever you want," I whisper back. "I don't care."  
>"You can have the hedgehog. You like hedgehogs."<br>"No, I don't, Amy. I fucking hate hedgehogs."  
>"What? Why? What's wrong with hedgehogs?"<br>"Don't even get me started, Amy. Don't even fucking get me started."  
>"Well, you can't have the cat. We already made a deal, Sal."<br>"Don't call me Sal. Why don't you just take them both, hussy? Have them run the train on you."  
>"You sure?" she asks, eyes widening in excitement.<br>"Jesus Christ, Amy. I was kidding."  
>"So you want the cat?"<br>"I don't want either of them, you bimbo!"

They're looking at us. I guess we were talking too loud. Amy, not noticing, paused with that stupid expression on her face. She wipes her face clean and replaces the confused look by plastering a fake smile across her face. I think I almost see a sparkle in her eyes. She turns towards the guys.

"Don't worry about my friend, guys!" she says, giggling. "She's a dyke."  
>"What?"<br>"That explains the short hair," the cat says. "And the combat boots."  
>"You guys, like, wanna run the train on me tonight? I've never had a threesome before. You can titty-fuck me," she says, winking and smiling. "I'll swallow your cum."<br>"I have a g-girlfriend," the cat stammers, speechless.  
>"What your girlfriend doesn't know won't hurt her," she says, knocking back the her drink.<br>"Amy," I say through my gritting teeth. "I have to go to the bathroom."  
>"So, go," she says, waving me off. "I'm gettin' some D."<br>"Amy. You're my best friend, right?"  
>She quickly turns to face me. "I am?"<br>"Yes," I say, my piss running down the barstool. Soaking my fur. "All BFF's go to the bathroom together."  
>"You just went to the bathroom..."<br>"Come to the fucking bathroom with me, Amy," I demand, cutting the stream off. "Now." 

* * *

><p>"What did you wanna show me?" she asks, walking right between me and the stalls.<br>"This," I tell her, grabbing her by the collar and hurling her face first into the door, knocking it open and sending her tumbling down onto the toilet.

She catches herself with her hands on the seat. Her face hovering just over the bowl. Bring my foot up fast, extend slightly, force it down, aiming for the back of her head. Force her neck down on the porcelain rim, causing her neck to crack and all the orifices to ejaculate blood. Her face submerged in yellow water that's beginning to cloud a dark orange.

"Yeah, slut," I say, watching bubbles rise around her. "Take it, slut. Take it."  
>The bubbles stop.<br>"You liked that, didn't you, slut?"

Sally, Nicole says from my vest pocket. Princess Sally.  
>"What?"<br>You have a message from Robotnik.

Piss. 


	2. Taste

_  
>Taste<p>

* * *

><p>Is it possible to feel the same way about god as you do about your cunt?<br>You think on that for a bit. I'm gonna take a shit.

* * *

><p>"I just love waffles," she says forcing a soggy piece off with the side of her fork, impaling it, and stuffing it into her mouth. "I love blueberry waffles. With syrup. I looooove syrup."<br>"Of course you do."

Waffle Land. Bottom of the barrel diner.  
>How the fuck does she talk me into this shit?<p>

"I was thinking that later we could get manicures," she says through a mouthful of waffle. "Also, you need your eyebrows trimmed. You look like shit."  
>"We've got orders to go see the big guy."<br>"You call him the big guy because he's fat, right?"  
>"Yes. Yes, I do."<p>

I should program Nicole to refer to him as the big guy from now on.

"Any idea what we have to do this time?"  
>"I dunno," I say, chin resting on the palms of my hands. "I'll probably kill something and you'll probably fuck something. Like always."<br>"I just hope it's not him again..."  
>"Um. Excuse me?"<br>"WAFFLES!" she says, digging into her meal. Eyes wide with paranoia and undertones of shame.  
>"Whore." Sip my coffee. Look down at my newspaper.<p>

Oh, lookie. Sonic did something magnificent that everyone fucking loves him for.  
>Asswipe.<p>

"Hey, the body is meant to have sex with," she says, her fork scraping against the plate underneath her soaked waffle. "Not, uh. Not to be not had sex with."  
>"You do realize how stupid you sound whenever you say things like that, right?"<br>"Hey. If god didn't want us to constantly have sex, why would he make it feel good?"  
>"Why would he make it painful to begin with? Sex is for reproduction. You just kept subjecting yourself to vaginal pains because you heard somewhere that it eventually feels good."<p>

Amy blinks at me and goes back to her waffle.  
>Oh, lookie. Someone lost their dog.<br>Oscar Townsend. That's the name of the dog, not the girl who lost it.  
>What kind of name for an animal is Oscar Townsend.<p>

"You're just jealous because I get laid more," she says, swallowing. How fitting.  
>"Took you long enough."<br>"It's true, though." Her head shaking from side to side, like some kind of dumb teen stereotype.  
>"There's more to life than using men to feel wanted and needed all the time. You're insignificant, ultimately. Accept it, already, and act like a goddamn grownup."<br>"All I hear is blah, blah, blah, I don't get laid," she says, giggling.  
>"All you're about to hear are your own goddamn screams drowning out my laughter..."<br>"Oh, you!"

She giggles and throws an artificial sweetener packet at me.  
>Fucking whore.<br>I'm gonna rip your goddamn tits off with my bare hands, you slut. And I'm going to stuff them in your face and force you to choke on your own goddamned money ticket.

"Do you two need anything?"

Old, cow waitress with the coffee dispenser and the hair net.  
>Her life, very obviously in shambles, her face stricken with a permanent displeased expression.<p>

"More coffee," I tell her, sliding my cup over to the edge.  
>She fills it and looks up, eying me warily. "Did you have an accident?"<br>"What do you mean by an accident?"  
>"It smells like piss over here."<br>"I wouldn't call that an accident."

She just sighs, defeated. Shakes her head and walks away.  
>Another victory for Sally Acorn.<p>

* * *

><p>"It's good to see you again, ladies."<br>"HAIIII! ^^"  
>"Whatever," I say. "Just get to the point."<p>

Working for Robotnik.  
>If I would have known this was my future back in the good old days, I would have fucking killed myself a long time ago. I suppose you could say that about a lot of the aspects of my life. But I can use him to get what I want. And I will, if it's the last fucking thing I ever do.<p>

"Today I've decided to change things up a bit. As you all know, and by all, I mean both of you, as you all know Amy's specialty is the fabulous honeypot, while Sally's expertise lies in killing. I want to see how versatile my minions are."  
>"THIS SOUNDS FUN!"<br>"Shut up, Amy," I say to her before turning my attention to Robotnik. "What the hell are you getting at?"  
>"Sally, I want you to take care of the honeypot on this one. Amy will do the killing."<br>"FINALLY!" she shouts, prancing. "I GET TO USE MY HAMMER!"  
>"What? This is bullshit, Ivo."<br>"This is going to require you getting a makeover, Sally. You're a little on the... meh, side. I mean there's a reason why we do things the way we do them. But I wanna see if you can pull it off."  
>"I fucking hate you."<br>"Hate me all you want," he replies, chuckling. "Do it, or get Roboticized. Now, there is no specific target this time, this is just a practice run. Pick anybody you'd like."  
>The word "Shadow" escapes my lips as my cunt begins to moisten. Oh, shit, did I just really say that out loud? Cover my mouth and look around. Amy's staring at me funny.<br>"Fat chance," Robotnik snorts. "Stick with someone in your league. May I suggest Big?"  
>"Fuck you, fatty," I spit. Yellow cable splattering against the metallic floor beneath my feet. Splashing up against my legs.<br>"Again. Your league," he says, grabbing hold of the lever next to his chair. "Stick with it."

He pulls the lever and the floor opens up, sending us tumbling down into the blinding light below.

* * *

><p>If you want some of this<br>you gotta come up  
>and give me a-<p>

* * *

><p>Splash.<br>Freezing cold water engulfs us, and we struggle to the top.  
>I fucking hate it when he does this.<br>Inhale deeply and make way to the shore.  
>Just drops us from the Death Egg into a fucking lake. No escorts back down. Heavens no. Let's just fucking drop them in a lake.<br>Asswipe. Prick.

The Death Egg floats above the great forest, with some kind of newfangled cloaking device. So ironic he would end up hiding out here when we took control of the city.  
>My city.<p>

Crawl from the water and roll over onto the dirt. I don't know where Amy is, and I don't give a shit.  
>Fuck it all.<p>

* * *

><p>"Well, you look... better?"<br>Sigh. "Just give me the fucking mirror, Amy."

She hands it to me, and I take a look at myself.

"Jesus Christ, I look like a whore."  
>"That's what you're going for," she tells me, with that stupid fucking smile on her face.<br>"I hate you, Amy," I tell her. "I hate you so fucking much."  
>"Oh, you!" she giggles.<br>"I'm not having sex with anyone."  
>"You are such a prude, Sally."<br>"I'm not a prude, you idiot. I'm just not a slut."  
>"Mmmmhm. When's the last time you got laid?"<br>"That's none of your business."  
>"Oh, Sally," she says, sad look on her face. Head cocked to the side. "You're not a virgin are you?"<br>"Of course not. It's just, uh. It's been awhile."  
>"Years, huh?"<br>"Fuck you."  
>"That's the spirit! Only, you wanna go for men, and not me. I'm not a lesbian."<br>"Bitch," I say. "Fucking stupid bitch. Whatever. Alright, get in the closet."  
>"Can't I come pick up guys with you?"<br>"You have to assassinate him, stupid. Jump out of the closet, hit him when he's not looking."

Cheap hotel. Never use your own place. Never check in using your name.  
>Call ahead. Pay in cash.<br>The roaches will only be a problem for the deceased.

These places stink so bad, you can't even smell the body.

"This is bullshit," Amy says, opening the closet door, stepping inside and turning around.  
>"Tell me about it," I mutter, approaching the closet door. "Did you bring your hammer?"<br>"Of course," she says, drawing a giant pink mallet from somewhere on her body. "I always have this baby on me."  
>"Your murder weapon is pink. And I don't even want to know where you pulled that from."<br>"I LOVE pink!" she says with a smile on her face, her eyes closed. "And it was in my-"  
>"That's enough. See you later."<br>"Hey, Sally?"  
>"What?"<br>"Remember. There is an art to what I do. You have to know people. You have to get inside their brain thingies and move stuff around to accommodate you and your needs. Quite frankly, I'm not even sure you can pull it off."  
>"You think I can't get a guy?"<br>"It's possible," she says. "But what I do isn't easy. Don't take it lightly." She has a very serious look on her face.  
>"Whatever," I say, slamming the closet door in her face. "See you soon."<p>

* * *

><p>Stepping outside the ratty hotel, I see a guy sitting on a bench next to the ashtray, smoking a cigarette. He doesn't look too bad. Suppose I could work with this.<p>

"Hey," I say. "Hey you."  
>"Me?" he asks dumbly, pointing his thumb at himself.<br>"Yeah. You. Wanna fuck?"  
>"Are you a hooker? Because I don't-"<br>"Nope. Free sex. Right here, right now. You in?"  
>"Are you serious?"<br>"Serious as Ebola. Ebola is pretty serious, sir."  
>"Hm. Yeah, okay."<br>"Good man. You won't regret this," I say grabbing his hand.

Pull him up and lead him back inside, and into the elevator.  
>God. Men. Not difficult at all.<p>

Isn't easy, my ass.

* * *

><p>Rake him into the room and shut the door behind him.<p>

"Lock it," I say, walking into the bathroom. "Then get undressed. Hurry."

He says something, but I'm not listening.  
>I'm looking at myself in the mirror. Jesus god, I look like a tramp.<p>

"You naked, yet?" I call out to him.  
>"Yeah."<p>

Cool.  
>Walk out of the bathroom and look over at him on the bed. He's not bad looking for a fox. I've never been into foxes. Not my style.<br>Did I really just say that? Please kill me.

Nobody. Nobody is my style.  
>His dick is pretty big, though.<p>

"You gonna take that vest off?" he asks.  
>"No," I tell him.<br>"The boots?"  
>"Boots stay on."<br>'We gonna fuck?"  
>"Oh, you're fucked alright. Amy?"<p>

Suddenly, the closet door bursts open, and Amy pops out with the hammer that's bigger than she is. Screaming and waving it around manically.  
>I didn't know she had it in her.<p>

"What the fuck?" he shouts, getting up and scrambling to pick up his clothes.

Amy hops up on the bed and swings the hammer backwards over her head. You can see the fire in her eyes. The lust.  
>She brings it down on his confused head with all the might she has in her. The sensitive skin on his head, tearing open. Blood soaking his orange fur, darkening it. He falls to his knees. She swings it to the left, and brings it to the right, hitting him right across the face. The crack echoing off the walls as he falls over a bleeding, twitching mess.<br>She screams as she brings the hammer down on him again, and again, and again, and again, and again before dropping the bloody hammer, hyperventilating and staring off into space.

"How do you feel, Amy?"

That's when she breaks down, and starts sobbing.

* * *

><p>She doesn't like the elevator because the lights flicker on and off in this dark, rusty old box.<br>Perfect time to strike.

"I saw that look in your eyes," I say.  
>"What?"<br>"When you killed him." Lick my lips. Her eyes get wide. "When you bludgeoned him to death with your hammer."  
>"I don't know what that means," she says, looking away. Trying to dismiss me.<br>"Something snapped in you, didn't it? You got off on it, didn't you?"  
>"You're gross, Sally."<br>"It's the truth and you know it," I state, grinning. "It felt good, didn't it? It felt real good."

She bites her lip and the lights go out again. When the light comes back on, she's looking at me with the most peculiar look on her face.  
>Almost as if she's thinking.<p>

"What would that mean?" She asks, timidly.  
>"It means you've just discovered that it's much easier to create than it is to destroy," I tell her, crossing my arms. "More fun, too. That's just the nature of shit."<p>

She's staring at me, eyes wide when the lights go off again.  
>The door opens.<p>

I step out into the light first.


	3. Lovehatekillfuck

_  
>Lovehatekillfuck <p>

* * *

><p>One by one, I'll knock you out.<p>

* * *

><p>At first I thought it was hilarious. Now, it's kinda terrifying.<br>The fly on the wall staring at me from across the room. Watching me. Judging me.  
>Stop looking at me, you cunt.<br>Throw a newspaper. It flies away. But it survived... No telling where it's hiding now. That fucker will be back. I know it in my bones. All of them.  
>I can see my bones... How odd.<p>

Make my way across my living room and forget what I was doing.  
>There's a door directly ahead of me. Seems to be calling me. Not sure if I should trust it.<br>Hell, I'm not sure I should trust you. But life isn't about trust. It's about blindly plunging into things like fat trucker into a men's room gloryhole.  
>Life is like cum. It smells bad, and sometimes it gets in your eyes. I heard someone say that once. That isn't mine, and I don't claim it.<p>

Approach the door, slowly. I feel like I've been walking for a million years. Yes. Exactly one million. Why the fuck is the carpet melting?  
>When I blink, I see her face getting significantly bloodier. More bruised. More swollen. Oh, how I **** to **** her.<p>

I dream of being toasted and buttered. Just like you. Just like everybody.  
>What god has in store for you isn't as pleasant as you want it to be.<p>

My hand touches the knob.  
>This knob is cold. Cold, like the withered remains of my dead, black heart. Any idea how cold that is? Fucking freezing.<p>

This, like everything else that exists in this life, is a crucible.  
>Let's see what awaits me.<p>

Hand turns slowly.  
>Oh, the tension.<p>

Push the door open slowly.

That's when the universe freezes and my eyes roll back into head.  
>That's when I leave my body.<br>That's when I speak to god. 

* * *

><p>I think I just pissed myself.<br>Is it possible to feel about Satan the same way you feel about your asshole? 

* * *

><p>"Do you ever stand up?"<br>"I've stood up before," he says, petting his little mechanical bird. "Didn't much care for it."  
>"So you literally just sit on your ass all the time?"<br>"Honey, the last time I stood up was ten years ago."  
>"Dear lord."<br>"Bahahahaha," he bellows, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "How'd the honeypot go?"  
>"It was easy. Ask Amy about the assassination."<br>"How'd the assassination go, Amy?"

She doesn't speak a word. She hasn't since the elevator. I'd say I was worried, but I'd be lying. I'd be lying so hard. Maybe she won't scream so fucking much when I kill her this time.  
>Maybe. We live in hope.<p>

"Amy?"  
>"She's been that way. Won't say a word. Not since the murder."<br>"Jesus. What is it with some people?"  
>"She's not an, uh. We're not people, Robotnik."<br>"You know what I mean. Snively had the same problem. Got all whiny after beating his first Mobian hooker to death. Sometimes I think he'll never get over it."

Amy's just staring off into the distance.  
>Spacing out.<br>Her body is present, but she's not here. It's not certain she will. What returns may very well not be the Amy Rose we all know and hate. This is a good thing.

"This isn't good," he says, scratching his chin. "We need to snap her out of this."  
>"Um. Why?"<br>"You can't perform the honeypot when you're a mindless zombie, Sally."  
>"Yeah, actually. I'm sure you could."<br>"You're her friend," he says, snapping his finger. "You fix her. You fix my Amy."  
>"What? Me? Her friend? Fuck no."<br>"I thought you two had some kind of lesbian thing going on, or something."  
>"What? No! Why does everybody think I'm a dyke?"<br>"Well, she kinda calls your name out during sex," he says, coughing into his sleeve.  
>"Are you fucking serious?"<br>"Yes."  
>"That's fucking sick."<br>"I thought it was kinda sexy, actually. I get into it. Yeah, that's right Call me Sally, slut..."  
>"Ugh. You would."<br>"Well, lesbians or no, this is your responsibility."  
>"How the fuck is it my responsibility? All of this was your idea."<br>"Precisely why it's your responsibility. I have enough responsibility."  
>"You sit on ass. You're sitting on ass right now. You'll be sitting on ass the rest of today, and tomorrow. You sit on ass. How is that responsibility."<br>"My ass is not relevant. Neither is this neato hover-chair. Take Amy home with you. Don't come back until she's fixed."  
>"Do I get paid for this?"<br>"If keeping your life is payment. Sure, whatever."  
>"I fucking hate you."<br>"Back at you, sweetie," he says, winking and blowing a kiss. "Nice makeup, by the way. You almost look presentable."  
>"I look like a whore, Robotnik."<br>"Yeah, that's what I said," he says, snorting. "You're a woman. That's what you should look like." 

* * *

><p>"I just want you to know, Amy. I'm not happy about this. Not in the slightest."<p>

Still silent. Still unmoving.  
>Insufferable, even when she doesn't speak. Somehow it's almost worse, the way she gets under my skin when she doesn't respond to shit.<p>

Rain pelting the windshield, distorting the lights around us in the dark city. She just stares out the window. Somewhere else.  
>Consumed by her own torment.<p>

Maybe one day, I'll follow suit. 

* * *

><p>"You **** her, so you have to **** her."<br>Shut up.  
>"You want to ****, but you have to **** her."<br>Not listening.

"You can't **** her.  
>You need to **** her.<br>You can't help but **** her.  
>So, you want to **** her." <p>

* * *

><p>FUCK YOU! SHUT UP! I'M NOT LISTENING! <p>

* * *

><p>The door.<br>I snap out of it.  
>Pull the door open slowly, and there she is. Right where I left her. With that fucking look on her face.<p>

"Amy?" I call out to her. "Were you calling my name?"

She doesn't say anything. She just stares at me.  
>Pale as a ghost.<p>

"So, I'm supposed to snap you out of it, huh?" I ask. "That it? That what we're doing, here?"

The thousand yard stare.  
>I slap her right across the fucking mouth. She doesn't even flinch.<br>Hit her again.

"Snap out of it, bitch," I say, slapping her a third time. "Fucking cunt. Snap out of it."

Punch her square in the eye, and her body falls backwards onto the floor.  
>Straddle her.<p>

"If you don't snap out of this shit," I tell her, "the rest of your life is going to be very unpleasant for you."

Nothing.  
>Hit her in the face.<br>And again.

Her face bruising, swelling, bleeding more with each crack I take at her dumb, beautiful, dumb face.

"What the fuck are you?" I cry, bringing both my fists down hard on her face.  
>Hands wrap around her slender, soft neck and squeeze. Squeeze as hard as they fucking can.<p>

Fuck you, Amy. Fuck you.  
>Die.<p>

I fucking hate you.

I fucking hate you. You get it?

My hands squeezing tighter and tighter as your face turns blue, and your eyes trying to pop out through your swollen shut eyelids. Lips puffy and bleeding. My cunt soaked.  
>You don't react.<p>

FUCK.

I hate you, Amy. I fucking love to hate you.

My body gives out, and I fall down on top of you, sobbing my eyes out into your neck. Imagery of your face, your flesh flashing across the back of my dark eyelids.

Stop. Please fucking stop.

Raise myself up slowly with my arms to meet you face to swollen face. Your eyes cracked just enough to where I can see your pupils and a fraction of your irises.  
>Body slowly starts lowering again. My lips meet yours.<p>

What the fuck am I doing?

Your eyes, open wide.

I love you, Amy. I fucking hate to love you.

That's why I have to kill you over and over again. 


	4. Bubbles

_  
>Bubbles<p>

* * *

><p>I've slept for most of the past 24 hours.<br>Eating handful after handful of pills during my waking moments.

What's the difference?

Life is always taking drastic turns. Your day-to-day may be comfortable at one point. Next thing you know, it's unpredictable. This is the way things work.

At five years old I saw my future in a thrown. Getting married. Bringing peace to the planet. Now the only thrown I see for tomorrow is porcelain, when I take my one good shit for the day.

Every second is a blur, every minute runs together. Living life on autopilot.  
>You know it's kicking in because you feel like you have to piss every five seconds. I get up and stumble my way to the bathroom. Pissing in other people's places is fine, but I don't want it to stink here. Face meets wood in the darkness, fingers scrambling to grant me entrance.<p>

The blinding light from the bathroom causes me to shield my eyes with my forearm for a moment until I can adjust. Vision still blurry. Hard white on deep red. Bathtub to the left filled and clouded with dark red and pink. What's left of poor Amy.

Poor, poor Amy.

Sit down on the toilet next to her and begin urinating. Look over at the pool of death we created together, and it comes to my attention that it's the most beautiful thing I've ever done. If I had a camera with me, I'd take a picture of it, but I don't think even that would do it justice. This moment is special. Erotic, almost. Her submerged head cocked to the side. Swollen shut and lifeless. Arms tangled above her. Feet loosely dangling.

My, oh my.

Wipe and flush the toilet.  
>Stand. Admire. Consider.<p>

What is life without exploration? What is exploration without discovery.

Close my eyes and see her smiling Eyes twinkling. Cute. If I didn't know better, I think she was innocent. Open them to see her dead. Our creation. We both bled and fought for this.  
>And what it is, is beauty. Is art. Is us.<p>

Carefully take off my vest and drop it in a small pile on top of Amy's shoes at the foot of the tub. Breath heavy, chest pounding as I kneel against the side of the tub.

It's my creation. I have every right to be a part of it.

Fingers grazing the water on the surface. Feel as though something is been unlocked. Inside me. Opened. What's inside? Could it fall into the wrong hands?

Hold my breath and wedge myself into the tub sideways, between the corpse and the porcelain.

The water us surprisingly warm, welcoming me. It wants me inside it, she needs me inside her.

Surface sounds immediately muffle and distort.  
>Hard to see anything through the blood and chunks of skin and hair. Hands snake around her vague form and brings it closely to my face. Nuzzle.<p>

And as my skin meets yours, you react by turning to me, holding me tightly. The bubbles drifting from her mouth to my ears, telling me to keep her safe, begging me to keep her safe.

"How much longer,: I ask.  
>She doesn't respond.<br>"How much longer before we disconnect from our bodies entirely?"  
>"I dunno," she ways, weakly looking up at me. "Your guess is as good as mine."<br>"What do we do now?"  
>She just smiles sweetly.<br>"This is gonna hurt, isn't it?"  
>"You get used to it."<p>

A moment of silence.

"Will I dream?" I ask.

She doesn't respond again. She just sucks as much water into her lungs to suffocate, barely struggling for a moment before turning out like a broken light. Only less noisy and more beautiful.

I never in a million years thought would cross my mind.

Close my eyes and follow suit.

* * *

><p>Watching a black rose bud in double time. It withers and dies just as quickly as the initial transformation. But what does that have anything to do with me?<br>A pinkish black heap of something that once could have been? I pick it up and crumble it in my hand. Fuck it. Scatter the remnants around my feet and walk past them.

This is what I am.  
>This is what I was.<br>This is what I will always be.

* * *

><p>I'm spinning towards oblivion with her hand locked tightly around mine. No matter how hard I pull, no matter how much I struggle, she's still always there. Stuck to me like a ravenous leech I can't shake.<br>How much of my life will you take from me before I am gone?

Weightlessness. Loss.  
>Help. Confusion.<p>

What is this, and why does it matter?

Is it possible to feel about yourself the same way as you do your taint? Often times, I feel as though I simply manage to get in the way of things. This is my role in life. This is my path. The path I already want destroyed.

Her grip tightens around my hand.  
>I don't know what I'm doing here.<p>

We fall faster and faster and faster until we hit the light.

And then there is nothing.

* * *

><p>Freezing.<br>Open my eyes to white bathroom ceiling.  
>Try to move. Covered in melting ice.<p>

Fuck me. Where'd that bitch go?

Crawl out of the bathtub sideways, falling out, over onto my back. Bits of clear frozen water scattering and cracking all around me.  
>Lick my lips. Eyes pop over to the medicine cabinet.<p>

Roll to my right, over to my stomach. Push myself up to my knees. From my knees, to my feet. Feet kinda launching me towards the sink.  
>Crash into it, knocking my toothbrush and other miscellaneous toiletries off the sides of it. Clacking against the tile below. Pull the mirror towards me and reveal breakfast. My hunger is ravenous, like a cannibal playing hide-and-seek for keeps. Left hand snatches pill bottle, shakes it like a maraca. Right hand grabs pocket sized bottle of jack and thumb twists the cap off.<p>

Set it on the toilet, and fill my hand up with glorious drugs.

Pop. Chug. Swallow.

Heart's racing, but fuck my heart. All it ever did for me was hold me prisoner in this disgusting place.

Arms crossed, trying to generate warmth within my soaked fur. Make my way through the hallway, and there she is.  
>In the kitchen.<br>Making waffles.

"What the fuck are you dong here?" I ask?  
>"Makin' waffles. ^^"<br>"I mean in my house. Why are you in my house?  
>She just cocks her head and smiles. "You brought me here, Silly Sally."<br>I didn't... I..." killed you. Then I killed myself. What the fuck is going on here?  
>"You could always ask Roby."<br>"...Roby?"  
>"Robotnik! ^^ Isn't it such a cute nickname for him? 3"<br>"No. Fuck that, Amy," I hiss. "Fuck that right in the face."  
>"Question."<br>"You can actually make those?"  
>"Yeah," she says. "Can we talk about the kiss?"<p>

"Sal?"  
>"W-what kiss?"<br>"Yesterday. You kissed me. After beating me up for awhile. Then we cuddled. I'm not sure how to feel about it."  
>"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, sitting down at the table and looking out on the beach.<br>"Before you died, she says, advancing me slowly. You kissed me in that bathtub. How did that make you feel?

* * *

><p>flash<p>

* * *

><p>We're standing on a hill, and nothing is being said.<br>Her back to mine. Bodies tightly pressed against one-another. I can feel her heart pounding into my spine.  
>Slowly, we turn to meet. Eyes locking. Blank canvas of a facial expression I can turn into whatever I want.<br>Desire.  
>Hatred.<br>Love.  
>Confusion.<br>I think I'll throw a bit of everything in there as I grab her roughly by her quills and force her into a deep, passionate kiss. By passionate, I mean her tongue is getting raped by mine.

That's when I sweep her legs out from under her and start stomping her under my heel.

* * *

><p>How am I alive?<br>"Incidental," she says. "But you are."

This isn't Right.  
>Something's amiss.<p>

* * *

><p>"I should be dead by now, right? I should have died in that bathroom."<br>Bloody - bruised - lifeless - dead.

ERASED from existence.  
>But why not?<p>

"What the fuck is this, Amy?"  
>"Hm? ^^"<br>"You're not as stupid as you pretend to be. What the fuck is going on?"

She smiles at me once, before getting back to her waffles; I'd take it up with the big guy."

Fuck.  
>Fuck this whole situation in the face.<p>

* * *

><p>She's on top of me, left hand kneading my tit, right hand holding my head against hers.<br>A moan escapes my mouth, muffled by her tongue. She's touching me, squeezing me. Teasing me. The kiss breaks and we lock eyes.  
>Her hand slides down to my flooded cunt. She kisses the side of my face, my collar, shoulder, nipple, working her way down to it. Her hot breath brushing up against me, driving me fucking mad. I can't take it anymore.<p>

Grab her by the hair and force her face down there. She reacts, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout my entire body. Unable to control the sounds coming from my throat.  
>I don't know what she's doing down there, but she's fucking good at it. Incredible, is the word I'd use to describe it.<p>

Suddenly, it comes to a halt, and she stands up, fastening something to herself.

Double-vision comes together. It's a strapon.

"What are you going to do with that?" I ask.  
>"I'm gonna stick it in your asshole," she says, smiling devilishly.<p>

Oh, fuck.

Try to get up, but my legs are weak. She advances and turns me over.

"No," I say. "Not that."  
>"Don't struggle so much," she says, giggling. "You'll love it, I promise."<br>"No!" I cry out, trying to crawl away.  
>"Every girl likes anal," she says in a deep, manly voice. Pinning me in place. "They just don't know it yet."<p>

* * *

><p>AAHHHH!<p>

* * *

><p>Knock the waffle out of her hand as she's about to take a bite. She looks at me - hurt.<p>

"What was that for?"  
>"You will NEVER stick anything in my asshole!"<br>"W-what?" she stammers.

Don't speak. No time. Just act.  
>Fist connects with her lower stomach, causing her to double over.<p>

"What the fuck are you doing?" she shrieks in vain.  
>"I'm gonna make sure we both die this time," I say<p>

Push her over. Slams head and back into floor cabinet. Right foot connects with her adjacent tit. Once. Twice. Three times. Pick her up and drag her limp, crying form over to the staircase and tossing her in sideways. Her cranium bounces off the adjacent wall, sending her tumbling down the steps like a lifeless doll.

Slowly approach, following the steps she "fell down" very carefully.  
>On the floor, she writhes and whimpers. I grab her by the hair and drag her into the living room and drop her on the floor. Walking over to the fireplace, I retrieve a bottle of lighter fluid and pop the cap open. Turn back to Amy and douse her with it. Weakly flailing around in futility.<p>

Finish the bottle off on my head.  
>Shit stinks.<p>

Walk around behind her, plopping down indian style and scooping her up into my lap by her torso, hugging her tightly against me.

"Sally?" she asks, her voice breaking.  
>"Yeah?"<br>"I love you."  
>"I love you, too."<p>

Struggle to get the zippo out of my pocket. Flick it open and strike it, causing us to erupt in flames. Her screams piercing my eardrums as I squeeze her tightly, bearing through the pain. I don't even think she can hear me over her own screams, I don't think she hears me asking her;

Will you marry me?


	5. Juices

_  
>Juices<p>

* * *

><p>My mistake was love - my penance was pain.<br>Self-destruction is an art, as well as corrosion.  
>Another day, another few mouthfuls of pills.<br>There is beauty in decay.

I'm a heavy drinker, but I still need a chaser.  
>There's a fine line between tolerant and passive.<br>My disgust is limited by my inability to care.  
>Inactive bodily functions.<p>

Carcass laying lifeless in the middle of the road.  
>It was as if it was planted there by destiny itself<br>to remind me of what I am and what I will be.  
>A dead animal.<p>

Crosswalk - cars driving by at varying speeds.  
>All with their very own destinations and goals.<br>All disregarding the rotting animal in the street.  
>This is the meaning of life.<p>

Pile of rocks sympathizes with dead dog. To be lifeless is one thing, but to have life and have it taken away is something else. You give a child a sucker and snatch it away. It was content without it at first, but now that you've given and taken away something it desires, it has a reason to cry.

Existence is futile. Question it.

Every piece of fiction is a reflection of nonfiction.  
>Every lie is a distortion of the truth.<br>Without one, you cannot have the other.

This is where life begins. This is where fantasy ends.

I'm alive, but I shouldn't be. I exist, but I don't want to.  
>Take another drink. Swallow more pills, like a good little whore.<br>Numb.

I don't know where I am. I don't remember where I came from. The stars in the sky cutting through the shadows of night. Barely visible under the city lights. If you look hard enough, you can make them out.

We shine down on ourselves from light-years away. We exist on this planet to admire our own beauty after we supernova. Walking heaps of stardust that slowly crumble. We don't last long enough to watch ourselves go out. That isn't the point, anyway.

Push on. Keep moving.

The streets know me better than I know myself. Probably why they're so hard on me. Understandable, but not desirable.  
>To start and to finish. To begin and to end.<p>

Life is a long walk through unfamiliar streets. Every passerby a mystery. Most discoveries forgotten. Fatigue and anxiety. Getting lost in the crowd.

What's your rainbow?

* * *

><p>"So, you two want to get married?"<p>

We don't answer. We don't know how to. Shudder to think that Amy and I are on the same page.  
>Fat fingers rubbing his chin, almost digging into it, in a way.<p>

"Not out of the question," he says, dropping his hand and leaning back in his chair. "I thought you two weren't lesbians, though."  
>"We're not," I tell him.<br>"Than why are you-"  
>"Tax benefits. That's all you need to know."<p>

He raises his brow at me, as if expecting a better explanation. Fuck him, though. He's not getting one.

"We're not lesbians," Amy interrupts. "We're bisexual. At least, I am. Like, we've been having sex and all, but I still like dick."

Glare at her. I swear to god, when we get home, I'm gonna ride her face until it fucking smothers her.  
>Death by cunt. Then we'll see who the lesbian is.<p>

"Well, then," he says, rubbing his hands together. That disgusting fucking grin plastered across his stupid, fat, dumb face. "Let's begin the ceremony, shall we?"

He pulls a gasmask from the seat of his chair. I don't even wanna know where he was keeping that thing. He straps it to his face and presses a button on his armchair.  
>The room begins flooding with green smoke.<p>

"What the fuck is this?"

But before I can finish my sentence, my limp body hits the floor.

* * *

><p>D...ou..a.e.t...oman..o.b...ou'..edded..ife?<p>

Hnn?

Just say I do, Sally.

I... do?

* * *

><p>"I now pronounce you woman and wife!" he says, clapping. "Go on! Kiss her!"<p>

Vision blurred.  
>Bright. Hard to keep my eyes open.<br>The outline of her head slowly comes into focus. Her head turned to the left, facing me. Both of us on our backs on a cold metal slab.

"Go on," he says. "Kiss! Kiss the brides!"

Eye her warily. She closes her eyes and leans in. I don't do anything as her lips connect with mine, but I can feel my heart fluttering. Air racing into my lungs through my nostrils.

Something doesn't feel right. Try to get up, causing searing pain all the way down my left side.

"Fuck!" I cry, falling back down.  
>"Yeah, you don't wanna move yet. Not when the stitches are this fresh."<br>"..Stitches? What?"  
>"Go on," he says. "Take a looksee."<p>

Look down.  
>Oh my god...<p>

"Oh my fucking god," I say aloud.  
>"What?" Amy asks. "Did he give you a dick?"<p>

She looks down and shrieks.

Connected at the sides. Poorly sewn together from the shoulder to feet. That fat fuck took my right arm, and her left. More importantly, that fucker took my right arm.

"What the fuck did you do to my left tit?"  
>"I connected it with Sally's right tit, creating, in affect, one big boob."<br>"Why?"  
>"Everybody wants a chick with three boobs."<br>"Like who?" I interrupt.  
>"Me, for example. And, as the god of Mobius, what I want, everybody wants. Or they'll suffer my wrath."<br>"My rack," Amy sobs. "My glorious rack."  
>"This is stupid," I say.<br>"I think it's pretty sexy," Robotnik says, digging in his bellybutton. He pulls his finger out and sniffs it.

I am disgusted.

"How the fuck are we supposed to walk?" I ask.  
>"With your feet, silly."<br>"You know what I mean. We have three feet."  
>"I know! Isn't it cool?"<br>"No."  
>"You're such a stick in the mud. Teamwork, Sally. That's what marriage is all about. You'll get used to it."<br>"My pride and joy," Amy cries. "Ruined! Oh, god. My life is in shambles."  
>"Fuck you, Robotnik."<br>"Hmm," he says, staring off into space and scratching his chin. "I could do a threesome. Is that an invitation to your honeymoon?"  
>"I want you dead so hard. I want you dead so, so hard."<br>"Don't we all?" He says, leaning back. "Say, have you seen the clicker?"

I just stare at him coldly while Amy mourns her tits quite loudly.

"Snively," he calls out, pressing a button on the armrest of his chair. "Find the remote. It's almost time for Glee."

Please god, give me something to strangle.

* * *

><p>"Okay, when I say right foot, I want you to step with your right foot, okay?"<br>"Mhm."  
>"Are you listening?"<br>"Yes, Sally," she sighs. "Gah."  
>"You know the difference between right and left, right?"<br>"I'm not stupid, Sally. God."  
>"Yes you are, that's why I have to make sure."<br>"Whatever."  
>"Okay. Right foot, Amy."<p>

Just as I start to move my left leg, she swings the middle one out, causing us to tumble to the ground, in a painful, awkward heap.

"Right foot, goddamnit! You fucking imbecile!"  
>"Ohhh! That was my left foot, huh?"<br>"You are so stupid, Amy. So goddamn stupid."  
>"Hey, I'm not stupid. You're just a betch."<br>"Alright, Amy. I want you to help me push us up with our arms, okay?"  
>"Mhm."<br>"Like a pushup."  
>"Mhm."<br>"Are you listening?"  
>"Mhm."<br>"Amy?"  
>"Mhm."<br>"Goddamnit, Amy, pay attention. Pushup. Now. Then I want you to tuck your knees nice and slowly under our body."  
>"Fine," she sighs.<p>

We manage to pull ourselves up to our knees.

"Sally," she whines. "This suuuucks."  
>"Oh, shut the fuck up. I'm sure you're a master of this position."<br>"I'm not sure I understand what you mean."  
>"Of course you don't."<br>"Sally!" she says, giving me those big, stupid, dumb green puppy eyes. "Telllll meeee!"  
>"It means you like dick in your mouth," I tell her flatly.<br>"Sucking dick is fun. ^_^"  
>" Shut the fuck up and help me onto our feet."<p>

* * *

><p>At what point do you lose yourself?<br>Spider crawls on what looks like thin air in the space between my desk and wall. I wonder how long he's been there. Details are lost on me, but I can barely make out its silhouette from the dim glow of the television. He dances with his tangled web. Slowly. Carefully.  
>She snores like a fucking cartoon character. Her head tilted to the side, resting against the back of the couch.<p>

You're right here, closer to me than I ever thought imaginable. Somehow, the loneliness is more evident to me than ever before.

I don't know who I am. I don't know what I am.

She stirs, finally. Stretching and moaning.

For a reason unknown to even me, I pretend not to notice.

"Did you cook dinner yet?" she asks, yawning.  
>"Excuse me?"<br>"Dinner." She looks at me. "Did you cook it?"  
>"No," I say.<br>Snort. "Typical."  
>"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"<br>"Nothin'. Wanna fuck?"  
>Scoff.<br>"What? Baby, it's our honeymoon. Everyone fucks on their honeymoon."  
>Le siiiiigh. "Fine."<p>

She brings my head in close and forces her tongue down my throat. Eyes close instinctively. The touch of her frail fingers on the back of my hand, gently leading me over to her right breast.

"Knead," she says, breaking the kiss. "Knead hard."

Tighten. Loosen.  
>Click. Bzzzzzzzz.<p>

Legs spread slightly by themselves.  
>Body tingling, blood almost boiling, as I eagerly await her to... moan into my mouth.<br>Okay, yeah, I'll go with that.

Nnnh.

She moans again. This time louder.  
>And rhythmic.<p>

Shluck.  
>Shluck.<br>Shluck.

The fuck.  
>Open my eyes, and look down. She's masturbating.<p>

Are you fucking serious?

Kiss breaks. "Pick up my tit," she says between moans.  
>"What?" I ask.<br>"Lift my tit as high as you can."  
>"Why?"<br>"Unh. Just do it."

Hand lifts her boob gently, as high as it'll go. Her head leans in, and she starts licking her own nipple.

The fuck.

"That's it," she moans between licks. "Good slut."

I angrily slap her tit, and she cries out.

"Oh, yeah. Do it again, baby."

Sigh.  
>Slap.<p>

"Yes! Almost there! Ah! Ah! Ah! AAAAAA!"

Her body convulses and shivers, toes curling as she lets out a grunt I didn't know she was capable of. She then removes the dildo, and tosses it into my lap.

"Finish yourself off," she says. "I'm sleepy."

Speechless, as she turns around, head resting on the couch, and immediately begins to snore. Pick the vibrator up and turn it off.  
>Look over at the spider who's slowly wrapping up his next meal. Still squirming, you can't be sure if it knows exactly what it's gotten itself into. About to be consumed slowly for sustenance.<br>Drained.

I like that spider. I think I'll call him Mister Whiskers.


	6. Womb

_  
>Womb <p>

* * *

><p>The universe is consuming itself to stay alive.<br>As are we all. 

* * *

><p>Every minute she's there. Every second she's there, and she could give a fuck less about it. I hate it. I hate her. I love her and I hate that.<br>Constantly using me. Constantly abusing everything I have.

I see everything wrong with this whole situation, but I lack the spine to cut myself away.

She's watching television. Completely mesmerized by You're Cut Off, or some other MTV abomination that tries to make us appreciate stupid for what it is. Stupid.  
>It helps the dumb people, I guess. At the very least, they can say "at least I'm not that bad."<p>

It's understandable, but at the same time, rather disgusting.

You can almost see the drool running down her chin, as she's been zombified by the stupidity of the people of today. I just want to reach over and strangle the life out of her for being what she is. But I guess that wouldn't help my situation any. She'd be back within a day or two, and I'd be left dragging dead weight.

However, she's not much more than that to begin with. Maybe I'd be better off...  
>Her head moves. She faces me, snapping out of her daze.<p>

"I need to go to the bathroom."  
>"Are you serious?"<br>"Why would I joke about that? Are you stupid?"  
>"Amy, I swear to god."<p>

She looks at me with those innocent looking eyes. I can't help but sigh and help her up.  
>We take a step towards the bathroom.<p>

"Wait," I say. "How in fuck are we gonna do this?"  
>"Whaddya mean?"<br>"Whaddya mean whaddya mean? There's two of us, idiot!"  
>"Duhhh. I didn't think about that, boss."<br>"Maybe we should like... get a chair, or something? Set it on the other side of the toilet?"  
>"Do we have a chair that's the same size as the toilet?"<br>"I dunno," I sigh. "This might be extremely awkward." 

* * *

><p>And it is awkward.<br>The chair is slightly taller than the toilet, so we're uncomfortably sitting at a slant. This slightly muffled tinkle of her piss stream hitting the water.

A chill runs down my spine.

"Could you try not to move so much? This is already weird enough."  
>"Shut the fuck up, Amy. Just shut the fuck up."<br>The definition of mortification.

Close my eyes and turn my head away. I can hear the roll spinning, toilet paper being torn away.  
>The soft scraping sound of her wiping.<p>

Ew. Just fucking ew. 

* * *

><p>The toilet flushes, and finally, this disgusting situation is over. Washing our hands, I notice her admiring herself in the mirror above the sink.<p>

"I need to lose weight," she says. "I'm getting puffy."  
>"You need to eat more," I tell her. "You're a fucking rail. God knows where you put all those fucking waffles."<br>"I don't eat. Ever."

Turn off the sink. Stare her reflection in the eye.

"You don't eat."  
>"Nope. Never."<br>"Than why the fuck did you have me cook for you?" I demand to know.  
>"I like the taste."<br>"Bullshit. I've seen you eat. We just ate waffles."  
>"I just like the taste. I spit everything up into napkins while pretending to wipe my mouth. I wish I still had a gag reflex." I hate you. I hate you so fucking much.<br>"Uh. Why?"  
>"Well, I made mine go away by sticking my thumb to the back of my throat, so I could be better at sucking dick. Now, I can't eat and puke it up."<br>"Why in god's name do you do this shit to yourself?"  
>"I wanna be pretty," she says, smiling weakly at me. "And liked."<p>

Oh my god... 

* * *

><p>It takes a handful of pills to lull me to sleep each night.<p>

The hairline cracks in my ceiling seem to be getting longer and longer.  
>Sometimes I close my eyes and make believe it's another time, and I'm still happy. However, these feelings are never accurate.<p>

The soft sound of your snoring makes me melt, sometimes. So does the cute, vacant expression across your face.  
>Sometimes I talk to you while you sleep. I tell you all my greatest fears. My biggest insecurities. I spill my heart to you, and you never remember it in the morning. The sad thing is that, if I told you while you were awake, I'd get the same results. At least when you sleep, you pretend to listen. I can pretend you care, and we're a happy, loving couple. A normal one.<p>

I'd like to think that everything will be okay in the end. But I have this sickening feeling that it won't ever be. Maybe I don't deserve happiness.  
>Maybe I don't deserve a glimpse at a normal life. A normal family. Every instant can't be happy, I know that. But why does my life have to resemble a steaming pile of shit so closely.<p>

Turn to you, and watch you sleep. Tell you I love you and close my eyes. 

* * *

><p>Open my eyes again and I'm floating. Staring straight at the ceiling.<br>My right side is cold. I look to you, but you aren't there.

I can't see my right arm, but I can feel it. I can feel it itching like crazy.

Try to scratch and my fingernails are like searing fire to my exposed, vulnerable side. Cry out and withdraw my hand.  
>My fingertips coated in blood.<p>

Wince.

Suddenly, the ceiling is brightly illuminated, save for my distorted and disfigured silhouette in the center. Heat. My back is really warm.  
>Struggle to turn around in mid-air. To face you.<p>

There you are, naked. Full figure laying on a bed of flames.  
>Left arm and all. Restored to your original condition.<p>

You're reaching out to me. Your eyes, alive with a blazing inferno deep within your black pupils. Your left arm outstretched, reaching towards me.

"Sally." Your lips don't move, but I can hear you speak.  
>My body does the exact opposite as I try to call your name. Mouth moves, but there are no words.<p>

Amy...

Try to move, but my body is paralyzed. There's nothing I can do.

The flames slowly eat you alive, burning away through your fur, scorching your flesh. Blackening every part of you, ever so slowly. Except for those eyes. Those eyes that speak volumes to me.  
>Lips burning away, leaving a bright, perfect set of teeth below your bright eyes. The oxygen is sucked from my lungs.<br>Can't breathe.

Gravity takes hold, but by the time I hit the bed of flame, you have been completely reduced to ash. Your remains explode, taking me with them. 

* * *

><p>You're standing in front of me. Angry expression, eyes full of hatred.<br>Staring right at me.

"Amy.." I say.

You say nothing. Your gloved hand connects with the side of my face, knocking my head to the side.  
>Regain control. Glare at her.<p>

Respond the only way I know how."

"Being married to you is like walking around with a rock in my shoe at all times," I tell her.  
>"Being married to you is like taking it up the ass for the first time. It's really uncomfortable, and you have to resist the urge to shit on everything." As if she doesn't.<br>"Being married to you is like getting oral sex from Sonic. He doesn't know what the hell he's doing down there, and he's constantly looking up at you, and whining to shove his cock in your mouth."  
>"Being married to you is like death."<br>"Being married to you is like life."

"That"  
>"is"<br>"not"  
>"a"<br>"good"  
>"thing." <p>

* * *

><p>FUCK YOU! <p>

* * *

><p>Face pressed against something soft, and still somehow uncomfortable. Back killing me.<p>

"Amy," I mumble.

Slurping and sucking noises invading my ears. With a little effort, I manage to turn my head to the right.  
>Open my eyes. It's bright. Blurry. Pink figure bobbing into a fleshy mess of blubber.<p>

Come into focus.

"Amy...?"  
>"Go back to sleep, Sally," Robotnik's voice commands, moaning lightly.<p>

Oh, god no. This can't be fucking real. This can't be.

"What the f-"  
>Sharp pain in the back of my neck cuts me off, silencing me.<p>

Robotnik grunts, and there's a light gulping noise, as the darkness takes me away. 

* * *

><p>Eyes shoot open.<br>Television. Some reality show I can't identify.

"What the fuck happened?" I ask.  
>"I woke up early," Amy says, dully. "Thought I'd watch some Tv."<br>"What time is it?"  
>"8:00 PM."<p>

How long was I out?  
>Was that a horrible nightmare? Am I losing my goddamn mind? If I say anything about it, and I'm wrong, I'll come across as a total nutter, and I don't mean that in the squirrel sense, you fucking racist. Heart racing, I feel genuinely afraid for the first time in a long time. I hug myself and Amy tightly with my arm, because that's all I have left.<p>

"I love you, Amy," I say quietly.  
>"Mhm." <p>

* * *

><p>I ate a piece of moldy bread today. Amy just stared at me, shook her head slowly and said something about not kissing me until after I brush my teeth.<p>

Amy asked me if I wanted to go out on a date, and excitedly fixed my hair in front of the sink in the bathroom. I kept asking her where we were going, and she kept saying it's a surprise. She ended up taking me to the mall, and talking me into buying her two pairs of shoes and several bangles that she'll never wear.

She flirted with a smelly cat on the bus from the mall on O'Malley all the way to our apartment on third street.

Later, I made Amy waffles and we watched I used to be fat while she chewed them up and spit them into a fucking napkin. Then I fucked Amy with her vibrator while she sucked her own tit. When it came to be my turn, she worked me for maybe two minutes and said something about her arm getting tired. She asked me if I could finish myself off. I told her to forget it.

Right now, we're three hours into a food network marathon, and it doesn't look like she's giving in anytime soon. Never gets bored with this.  
>I can't stare at food this long. Starting to feel ill. Starting to lose my goddamn mind.<p>

And that's when it happens. It takes me some time to realize that my mouth has been heavily watering.

"Amy."  
>"Hn?"<br>"Amy, bathroom," I say trying to ease us off the sofa."  
>"What?" She asks dumbly, just sitting there.<br>"Bathroom, Amy! Bathroom now!"

This is when I just drag her up to her feet. Her leg gets tangled up with ours, and we stumble backwards, knocking the couch back as we tumble to the floor.  
>As soon as my back connects with the boards, vomit ejects from my stomach and into the air, chunks of wet moldy bread and waffles raining back down upon us.<p>

"Ewwwwww!" cries Amy. "That's fucking gross! I told you not to eat that fucking moldy bread."  
>"Oh, shit," I say, my head spinning. "What's the date?"<br>"Monday," she says, squirming. "Help me get up, we need to wash this shit off of us."  
>"Not the day, jackass. The date. The DATE."<br>"I think it's the seventeenth."  
>"Oh, fuck, Amy. I'm late."<br>"For what, the manly combat boots convention?" she snorts.  
>"No, you idiot. LATE, late. I'm late."<br>"I don't get it."  
>"Of course you don't, you idiot," I say, helping her to her feet. "We gotta go. Now."<br>"I'm NOT going anywhere until I get a fucking shower and do my hair."  
>Come to a halt and turn towards her, glaring. "You and I are going to the drugstore. Right. Fucking. Now. Got it?"<p>

She gulps. 

* * *

><p>Dragging her through the wet streets, she's covering her face up, trying not to be seen or recognized.<br>Ha. As if. There are plenty of squirrels sewn roughly to hedgehogs wandering around this town. Fucking idiot.  
>The evening air is humid. Just stopped raining, thank fucking god. Of course, it would be nice to have this vomit washed off of me, but I am mildly enjoying watching Amy squirm.<br>All eyes on us as the dumbfucked passers by stare us down with a look of pure awe and stupidity. Unaware just how much she cares and I don't.

We come to a halt as something catches my eye in the street. The skeleton of the previously mentioned dog. Still there. Everyone still pretending not to notice.

"What is it?" she asks.  
>"Nothing," I say. "Nothing at all." <p>

* * *

><p>The bell jingles above the door as we enter the drugstore. Eyes scan the tags above the aisles to figure out which direction to go. Family planning. With the condoms and pregnancy tests. I love how PC everything is these days.<p>

Hobble over aisle six, and scan the contents for home pregnancy tests. Bingo. The most expensive one. Supposed to be accurate the soonest. It's probably bullshit, but here we go.

"Why are we here?" she sighs.  
>"Pregnancy test."<br>"You're stupid. You're not throwing up because you're pregnant, you're throwing up because you ate moldy bread."  
>"Shut the fuck up, Amy."<p>

Skim the instructions just enough to get the gist. Tear open the box with my teeth and toss it aside. Discard the cap on the white tile floor beneath us and hold it between my legs, just under my cunt.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Amy asks.

Push. Nothing. Fuck.

"Amy, what's your favorite book?"  
>"I don't like books. I like movies. But the Twilight series is amazing," she says, swooning cartoonishly with her hand on her chest and her eyes closed. A big stupid fucking smile on her face. "Jacob is so dreaaamy."<p>

Piss shoots out of me like yellow cable, dousing the applicator.

"Thanks," I say, bending us over to pick the cap up and stuff it back over the applicator.  
>"You did not fucking just do that in public, did you, Sally?"<br>"I dunno, idiot. You were there. What do you think?"  
>"Oh, god," she says, hiding her face again. Blushing madly. "I am so fucking embarrassed."<br>"Get over it," I say. "You might wanna take one of these, too, Amy."  
>"I'm not pregnant, stupid. I had my tubes tied."<br>"Thank god," I say. "Last thing the world needs is another stupid fucking-"

The test beeps and I look at it.

Fuck. Positive.  
>Suddenly she begins to gag violently.<p>

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"  
>"Dry heaving. I can't throw up, since there's nothing in my body"  
>"Probably morning sickness," I groan.<br>"How can you, like, have morning sickness in the evening?"  
>"Le sigh."<p>

Guide her down the aisle and to the right, over to the pharmacy. The girl behind the counter smiling at us falsely, trying to fight away the shock of seeing what we are, and the obvious disgust at the vomit we're covered in.

"How may I help you today?"  
>"I'm knocked up," I say, tossing the dripping pregnancy test down on the counter. "I need abortion pills"  
>"Uh," she says, dumbly. Her smile dropping to a confused expression. "Abortion... pills?"<br>"Yeah. Morning after, plan b, whatever the fuck they're called."

She looks down at the pregnancy test and looks back up at me.

"That doesn't work once the home tests read positive," she says. "Are you, uh, gonna pay for that?"  
>"Brought it from home."<br>"You just used it. It's still wet."  
>"I live close," I tell her. "Now get me the fucking abortion pills. Now."<br>"I told you, those don't work like that. They're for accidents. You're supposed to use them right after the condom breaks. Now, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to call the authorities if you don't pay for that."  
>"And tell them, what? You got ripped off by a Siamese twin consisting of a squirrel and a pink hedgehog? Good luck explaining that one, bitch. Hope you don't end up in jail for wasting the police's time."<br>"Do you even have any ID?"

Lean in close, and grab her by the collar. Her expression goes from angry to scared in a split-second as I pull her towards me. Her face contorting from the stench of my breath hitting her in the face and the vomit on my fur. She whimpers slightly, and a big grin spreads across my face.

"Here's my fucking ID, you twat. Get. Me. The. God. Damn. Baby. Killing. Pills. Right. Fucking. NOW."  
>"Okay," she whines. "Okay, just let me go."<p>

Comply.  
>Amy's shaking her head, and covering her eyes.<p>

"I am so sorry, miss," she says.  
>"Shut the fuck up, Amy," I say to the side. Nod towards the medications behind the counter. "Go. Now."<p>

She retrieves the pills, and I tear open the packaging one handedly, pushing the two little pills out through the foil in back. They drop onto the counter."

"You're supposed to take those sep-" the counter girl starts.

Glare at her. She shuts up.  
>Pop the pills and crunch them between my teeth while looking her dead in the eye.<p>

"Have a nice, abuse free day," I say, backing up, spinning Amy and I around towards the door. And with a little style, but no grace, we walk back out into the streets 

* * *

><p>On the way home, I make Amy stop under the streetlight. Walk out into the middle of the closest lane to the remains of an old friend I never even met. A kindred spirit, if you will.<p>

"What the fuck is that?" Amy asks.  
>"That's a skeleton," I sigh. "Used to be a dog."<br>"What the fuck are we doing so close to it?"

I bend us over, and forcefully remove the skull.

"Ewwwww!" she cries.

Examine it.  
>No cracks, no missing teeth. Skull still in perfect condition. All that's left of the dead mammal.<p>

"I'm taking this home," I say.  
>"You're fucking gross, Sally. Really. You're disgusting."<p>

No, I'm not, I say. I'm just different. 

* * *

><p>In the morning, I'm throwing up again. As the day goes by, the nausea goes away. Amy's habits are similar, only she has nothing to vomit.<br>I don't think she's in denial anymore, but I don't think she wants to admit she was wrong. That's fine. I'll give her that. I could really give a fuck less about her meaningless mistakes.

As the days go by, we talk less. They all seem to blur together, the only difference between them being what episodes of Amy's favorite shows we're watching, and the size of our stomachs.

The pills, obviously didn't work. Perhaps I should have listened to the girl at the counter, but she was a stupid bitch, so fuck her. She wasn't right, or anything. I was just wrong.

Day after day, episode after episode of stupid fucking television program, I begin to put all my stock into the thing growing inside me.

It's going to save me. Somehow, I know that.

My two closest friends as of now are a spider by the television, and the disconnected skull of a long since passed canine on my dresser. They don't speak. They don't feel. They don't care. But at least there's comfort in the fact that they don't pretend to.

The more time Amy and I spend together, the further we drift apart. I desperately wish I could salvage what we have, or start over, but I don't know how. I don't know what to say. I don't even think she fucking cares. If she doesn't care, why should I?

Fuck you, Amy. Fuck you for not caring.

Sometimes I envy everything you are, because you're just stupid enough to convince yourself you did the right thing, when you've pissed everything that was important to you and the people close to you away. 

* * *

><p>Amy boredly flips through the channels as Mister Whiskers devours yet another fly. The day crawls by at a snail's pace, as usual.<br>I suppose there's some comfort in predictability.

"There's nothing good on Tv," she says, breaking the silence.  
>"There never is," I reply. "All that thing is good for is rotting your brain and making you even dumber than you already are."<br>"You're always so negative," she says. "I can't fucking stand it."  
>"Sorry."<p>

Another moment of silence as she tosses the remote limply beside her.

"Ugh. I'm getting so fat."  
>"You're not fat, you're pregnant. There's a difference."<br>"I look gross," she whines.  
>"Just shut up, Amy. Please. I have a headache."<p>

She mumbles some inaudible nonsense, and I feel my fist tighten.

It's okay, I tell myself. Close my eyes. Take a few deep breaths. Open them and reach for the newspaper.

"Wait," she says, snatching the folded up newspaper from my hands. "There's something I need this for, real quick."  
>"What's that?"<p>

She closes her left eye, tongue hanging out of her tight-lipped expression. Arm raises up the news paper as she focuses on - oh no.  
>I try to stop her but it's too late. She hurls the newspaper at Mister Whiskers, cutting right through his web and slamming him into the wall behind him, sending him tumbling to his doom beneath the newspaper.<p>

"Amy!" I cry out, shocked. "What the fuck did you just do?"  
>"I finally took care of that icky spider," she says, dumbly. "It's been bugging me for days. Heh. Bugging. Get it?"<br>"Why," I try to say through the bubble in my throat. "Why would you do that?"  
>"Because spiders are gross, duh."<br>I'm trying so hard not to cry, but my eyes fill with tears regardless. "That was Mister Whiskers. He was my friend."  
>"You are so fucking weird," she says, picking the remote back up. "Wait, what the fuck? Why am I wet?"<br>Sniffle. "What?"  
>"Gross, Sally! Did you piss on the couch?"<p>

What? No, I...  
>Violent contraction causes me to look down.<p>

Oh, fuckle.

"Our water just broke, Amy."  
>"What the fuck does that mean?"<br>"It means we're going to have the baby, stupid."  
>"Oh, fuck," she says, panicking. "We need to get to the hospital."<br>"No time," I say. "Help me to the floor. We're having these fuckers off the grid." 

* * *

><p>"Sally," she whines. "It hurts."<br>"It's gonna be okay, Amy," I assure her. "Hold my hand."

Her hand blindly gropes for mine, and once it takes hold, I'm locked in a fucking death grip. Her nails digging deeply into my soft flesh. I respond by tightening my own grip.  
>Our legs spread wide open, bent at the knee, feet pressing hard against the hardwood floor. Our lower half like an irregular W. Hands tightly locked.<br>Eyes locked closed. Terrified, both of us. I can feel her emotions as if they were my own at this point.

Unbearable pain. Every muscle clenched.

"Push," I tell her through clenched teeth. "Push, Amy."

Her whining turns into screaming like her voice is clawing at my eardrums. Head ringing. I can feel my vaginal walls stretching, tearing to accommodate the baby passing through my cervix. Feels like I'm being ripped apart from the inside out, as if I was giving birth to a fucking flaming sword.  
>Amy's screaming at me, begging me to make it stop, and I really wish I could.<p>

"Push," I cry out. "It'll all be over soon."

Before I know it, my own screams as the fucker starts to crown and just as I think the worst is over, that the biggest part is about to pass the fucker's body just gets bigger and fucking bigger and I can't stop screaming and I can't stop crying and I just want it to be over, I just want it all to be over please make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop MAKE IT FUCKING STOP~! 

* * *

><p>A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A 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A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A 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A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AA A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A AAAA A A A A A A A A A A A A <p>

* * *

><p>Hyperventilating. We both are.<br>Amy's breathing only interrupted by her soft whimpers and moans.

It's over. It's finally fucking over.  
>But that doesn't mean the pain is gone.<p>

It takes me a moment to realize that there's no crying, no screaming and just as my heart settled down, it picks up the pace and I'm immediately terrified.

The baby.

"Amy," I say, opening my eyes. "We have to sit up, Amy."  
>"I can't," she says, weakly. "I can't.<br>"We have to check on the babies, Amy. Help me get up. Please."

With a lot of effort we manage to sit upright.  
>Headrush. Vision goes black for a moment, and I can hear Amy shriek. I'm already crying when my sight comes back, the bloody mess between my legs coming into focus.<p>

But what I see isn't a baby.  
>What I see doesn't make me sad, it doesn't make me cry, it doesn't break my heart.<p>

It gives me hope. It gives me hope and I start laughing.

"Amy," I say, picking up the bloody chainsaw between my legs, and bringing it up to my face, and clutching the ripcord between my teeth. "I think it's about time we got a divorce."

Wrench my head back quickly and the chainsaw fires up. She responds, but I can't understand what she's saying over the noise of the loud motor.  
>Fall back and she comes with me.<p>

Rev the fucker while holding it up, turning it awkwardly back to us. I'm already numb when the spinning chain connects with our mangled tit. Cutting into our scarred flesh, tearing away chunks of skin and fur. Grinding against bone.

I can't hear her reactions. Her screams. Her crying. Her begging.  
>I can't even hear my own laughter over the sound of our separation. <p>

* * *

><p>Oh, my poor, sweet Amy.<br>Thrashing around madly in a pool of our blood. Crying and cursing and screaming as loud as she can.

Lethargic grin spread across my face as I lay down on my right side, blood collecting all around me in a massive pool, watching my other half try to adjust to life without me.

Oh, my poor, sweet Amy, I say.  
>A part of me will always be missing when you're not around.<p> 


	7. xo

_  
>xo <p>

* * *

><p>God is watching.<br>Whatever god might be. 

* * *

><p>It would seem I have turned the carpet and walls of my apartment into a Jackson Pollock piece. Even though she's not moving right now, I can still hear her screams, her violent thrashings.<p>

Time to act.

Weakly crawl over to her, reaching between her legs picking up the bloody mess she left for me.  
>Tear open the placenta with my teeth and the objects inside tumble to the floor.<p>

Spit.

A mechanical arm, a boltgun, three bolts, and a syringe filled with an unknown substance. And somehow, I know exactly what to do.

Pick up the syringe and bite the cap off. Force the needle into the bleeding socket where my arm should be. Inject. It's like a thousand tiny firecrackers going off in my shoulder, spreading warmth and love throughout my veins. Introducing the sunshine to my soul.

Focus.

Pick up the arm, fumbling with it. It digs into my scabbing wounds as I force it into place just right, to where it stays. Pick up the boltgun with my newly freed hand and put it in place. A hiss and then a pop as it pins the new limb into my bone structure in one, two, three places.

The boltgun falls from my grip, causing it to go off, destroying the television. Fuck it. I didn't want that piece of shit anyway.

Scooting back into the wall behind me, I lean against it. My energy draining. The world around me blurring together. Amy's corpse, still bleeding out in front of me, melting into the floorboard.

Sally, Nicole says. Princess Sally.  
>"What?"<br>I love you, Sally.

The wires in my brain explode and my head frazzles.

God is with us and I don't think it's death we have to worry about.

I think it's life. 

* * *

><p>Hard black on hard white.<br>The thing about our kind is that we like to make things out to be a lot more complicated than they really are. Including ourselves.

DNA confirmation of self-disassociation.  
>A cloud that looks like a bunny is still a cloud.<p>

I traveled around the world in a straight line only to end up where I started and shake my own hand.  
>Love is love, god is god, and both are ultimately what you make of them.<p>

We enter this life covered in blood and screaming. It isn't uncommon to go out the same way.

The first stage of recovery is withdrawl. Suffering is the only road to getting any better.

I lay on the hardwood floors, staring at your corpse and longing for your touch. As much as I want you, as much as I need you, I know what's for the best.  
>I can't afford a relapse.<p>

Vivid imagery of you and I together slowly fades over time with each drink. Memories degrading with each pill I take. My mind, body and heart ache more and more with each second you are absent. Someone that was once so dear to me, now little more than a distant memory of both happiness and sadness. Love and hatred.  
>Ecstasy and suffering.<p>

The blood has dried and stained the white walls brown. Your body withered and decaying. The stench of you rotting invading my nostrils and driving anything I ingest back out the way it came in.

I'd like to deny what I am. I'd like to forget any of this ever happened. But I can't.

You can't erase ink, and bloodstains are almost impossible to get out.

Such is existence. 

* * *

><p>Every second of every day is a test of my faith.<br>One instant I'm calm, feeling like I'll be okay. The next, I'm a crying mess of pathetic weakness.

No. I don't miss her. I'm gonna be fine.

Pick up a hobby. Sewing, knitting. Something tedious and slow, that occupies my mind and zones me out. I made a pink scarf that's thirty feet long. Nobody's ever gonna wear it. It just helps me cope.

The days crawl by, as they did before. Only now, they're more agonizing.

Nicole talks to me occasionally, but she never has anything interesting to say. I actually miss being pissed off. At least then, I felt something other than emptiness. 

* * *

><p>The phone has been ringing, and I know it's either her or him. One of them, I have no desire to talk to. The other, it's for the best if I don't.<br>Nicole kept telling me for awhile that Robotnik was trying to reach me. I asked her to stop, and she's respectfully complied.

I just keep knitting. Nicole sitting there, motionless as always on the coffee table in front of me.  
>Pink scarf. Blue blanket. Doesn't matter what I'm making. The important part is the distraction.<p>

Every passing second is another chance to numb the empty feeling. You kind of forget how pointless everything is when you're absorbed in a meaningless task. Toiling away, working on a useless piece of cloth you'll never use and don't care about.

It takes me away.

Suddenly, I'm startled by a knock on the door.  
>Turn my attention towards it, but don't move. Just wait. Wait for it to go away, so my task can resume.<p>

Silence. I can see the shadows of your feet under the door, fucker. Go away.  
>Whoever is there slides something under the door and walks away. I give it a moment before getting up and picking it up. Vanilla envelope with the name SALLY ACORN written across it in bold sharpie letters. Shoddy handwriting.<p>

Tear it open. Inside is a blank piece of paper save for the words I HAVE SOMETHING OF YOURS and a photograph of Amy, beaten up and crying.

My heart wrenches. Nobody beats and kills Amy except for me.

Fucker. 

* * *

><p>I don't want to love you. I don't even want to think about you. But I can't help it. You're too goddamn beautiful for your own good - for my good, for that matter. You mean too much to me. I want to get rid of you, but I can't lose you. You tear my soul apart, Amy. You tear me apart. Fuck you, Amy Rose. I love you, but I hate you. I need you, but I want you gone. All your little details haunt me in ways that I can't explain, that I don't understand. The way you bite your lip when you're thinking. The way you play with your quills when you're nervous. The way you feel. The way you taste. There's a moment before your lips connect with mine when all the oxygen is sucked from my lungs. There's a moment just before you touch me when all of my hairs stand on and, and my skin tingles. I don't know what sadness is anymore, because I've lost the ability to be happy. And you know, even in your dumb little brain that you can't have one without the other. There's a lot about me I don't understand, myself. Your defining moment in this life is how you depart from it for good. I've left your bloody, bruised and torn corpse to rot over and over and over again, yet you still somehow manage to haunt me. Like a ghost with unfinished business. This is how we treat the ones we love. Our entire existence is fucking sickening. The footprints on my back from the shoes of those I've loved serve as a reminder of what I am now and what I once was. You shit on something enough, and it turns into one big, stinky pile of ugly shit. I'm living proof that karma isn't real. Both Sonic and Amy have taken something from me that I can never buy back. Every day, I wish I could hate them more than I love them. But I can't. <p>

* * *

><p>There is no sound reasoning behind the things that I do. Nor is there certainty.<p>

There is no fairness in this existence. This is what has destroyed me.

One by one, I load the bullets into the magazine. The satisfying click of the projectiles fitting into place.

Force the clip into the bottom of the pistol.  
>This gun is your god, and my hand is your judgment. The sentence carried out by both will be final.<p>

The end is nigh. 

* * *

><p>She's here waiting for me. They both are.<br>However, there's more on my mind than just her.

"What the fuck have you done to us?"

"What exactly is it that you're implying, squirrel?"

"We can't die. We can't grow. We can't become something we want, because every time we get to where evolution is a possibility, we are destroyed and somehow recreated. We die and everything is erased. And we just exist again."

He doesn't speak. Just scratches his beard.

The ginger beard I just wanna rip off his fat fucking face.

"I want answers," I tell him. "I want answers now.'

Amy hasn't said a word. Timidly facing the corner as if she's unsure of what her purpose in all of this is. "Something strange is going on," she sniffles. "I don't understand it."

"You never will," Robotnik says, pushing a button. "But I can give you an idea. For now."

The wall of screens slides away unveiling countless test tubes. Life-sized ones. Filled with me. Filled with Amy. Filled with Sonic. Shadow. Knuckles. Rouge. Big. Fiona...

Clones.

I can't even remember the last time I died. I can't even tell if I'm real. If any of this is real.  
>My heart sinks and I want to die.<br>But I can't. I'll just be right back here tomorrow.

"If you're in complete control," I tell him, " why go through all the bullshit that we've been working at for years? What is this accomplishing?"

"Do you remember when you were born?" he asks me, plainly.

And I have to think. I have to think real hard about it.

"Station Square?"

"No. Where you lived before you moved here."

"I don't understand what you mean?"

"A little place called Knothole ring a bell?"

Knothole...  
>KNOThole...<br>knotHOLE..

"This is all just fun and games, Sally."

No.

"I've killed you all so many times, and it never gets tiresome."

"No..."

"You little brats gave me a challenge at first, sure. In the beginning, it was the hedgehog I hated. It was the hedgehog I loathed. It was the hedgehog I was certain was my sworn enemy. He had the skill, sure, but it wasn't long after I captured him that he didn't have a fucking brain in his head. He was a simpleton, following orders. Your orders. You were always the one, Sally. You were always the thorn buried deep within my right testicle. Causing the constant state of pain, rage and anxiety that clouded my judgment for a good decade. When I caught you, I knew your death wouldn't be enough to satisfy me. I wanted to torture you. To rape and humiliate you. I wanted you begging for death, Sally. I wanted you begging for something for something that would never come soon enough. Just like I. I did my worst on you, Sally, but you never begged. That's when I knew one lifetime wouldn't be enough for you. For any of you. Now, I control everyone and everything. I control your memories. I control your life. I control you, Sally."

"No," I say, fists tightening. "You don't."

"Do you wish you could die yet?" He sneers. "Because you won't."

"Fuck you, Robotnik," I spit. "I'll kill you."

"After you die," he says, smiling, "you won't even remember this."

The floor opens beneath Amy and I, and gravity takes its toll.

His laughter echoing from above..

Immediately rake her in with my left arm, close to me. Right arm strikes the side of the shaft we're falling through, causing sparks to fly from the metal grinding against metal and rain down on us.  
>Close my eyes. Bear through it.<p>

Hand finally digs into a mesh vent covering, and we come to a halt, the force of the stop almost knocking Amy completely out of my grasp. Hold her tight against my body.

You're not getting rid of us that fucking easy, you fat piece of shit. 

* * *

><p>"Alright, Amy," I breathe. My body trying its damnedest not to give up on me. Not to just shut down and collapse. "You see that vent above us?"<p>

Feel her shifting around to look.

"Is that a yes?" I ask.

"Mhm," she squeaks.

Eyes tightly closed. Head swimming.

"Use me," I tell her. "Use me to climb up to the vent. Wait for me there."

One second, her tiny hands pushing all her weight down on my head. The next, her knees resting on my shoulders.

"Hurry." Demand.

My body is hanging on by a thread.  
>Her weight is lifted, and my mechanical arm lifts me up into the vent with her.<p>

Collapse. In through the nose. Out through the mouth.  
>I'm gonna be okay. <p>

* * *

><p>"Amy," I breathe.<p>

She looks at me with wide, watery eyes of confusion and indignity.  
>Her soul bleeding out through her face. She looks so pretty like that.<p>

"I need you to stay here," I command. "I need you to stay here until I come and get you. If I don't come back within the hour, you need to find a way out through the vents. Can you do that?"

She nods, tears streaking down her face. Thin black lines of mascara staining her cheeks.

Eyes close as I lean in, lips connecting with hers. Locking. Parting hers with mine, tongues fighting like a couple of tangled snakes. Striking back and forth, twisting before disconnection. Eyes opening to hers. Big and soulful, just as they always are. Melt.  
>I hate what she does to me, but at the same time, I need it.<p>

"I love you," I say, kicking the vent open and hopping out.

She never responds. 

* * *

><p>Mid-air, falling from the vent in the ceiling, I lock onto the shine on the top of his head reflecting the bright fluorescent lights above me. Mechanical arm high above my head, ready to strike. Snively turns around in just enough time for his eyes to grow wide with fear as my metal fist connects with his bald fucking head, causing it to cave in and sending him tumbling uselessly to the white tile at my feet.<br>Death rattle forced from his throat in a mangled squeak as his blood, bits of his skull and brain matter spray the walkway.

Three guards just ahead of Snively's corpse are suddenly alerted by the commotion. Spinning around, readying their submachine guns. Act fast, dashing forward, scooping what's left of the bald little twerp up with my right arm hooked around his neck. Pull him back up as my left hand draws my pistol. Bullets pelting against him, his head limply rolling around as the force of the hot molten lead tearing into his body pushes me back a little. Gritting my teeth.

Finger the safety off and wait a moment for the fire to cease. Thumb the hammer back and throw the broken shield back to the ground.  
>As they reload, I pull the trigger over and over again, projectiles whizzing arbitrarily towards the idiot guards.<p>

Four shots bring two down, puncturing bloody holes in their torsos. Feet act by second nature, bringing me towards the third one, zigzagging down the hallway as he cocks his weapon and opens fire.  
>Everything in existence fades away except for me and him. The distance closing in, my right arm ready to strike. Molten lead tearing through my fragile flesh is little more than fact.<p>

His eyes widen as my fist connects with his throat, a string of blood ejaculating from between his lips and splashing me on the face as he sinks to the floor.

Wipe myself off. Let the games begin, Robotnik. 

* * *

><p>As I approach the door, it opens for me, as always.<br>He's expecting me.

Stepping into the room, he's already clapping. Something I didn't expect.  
>And before me on the ground, riddled with holes and bleeding out, is Amy. Something else I didn't expect.<p>

"Bravo," he says to the left of me. "Bravo, Sally. I wasn't sure you'd make it this far."

Eyes drift from my loved one to his face. That smug fucking grin slapped across the front of his portly head. The artificial light reflecting off of his black goggles.

"What are you?" I ask.

"God," he says leaning forward. "I've already told you that, honey. You just refuse to admit it."

Fists clenching. Teeth gritting.

"I've killed you," he says, smiling. "I've brought you back. Given you life. Fucked you. Created and destroyed you. I've pulled the strings for years, and let me tell you something, Sally; it never gets old."

"You underestimate us," I tell him, drawing the pistol and pointing it at him. "More importantly, you underestimate me."

He responds to this by simply chuckling.  
>Pull the trigger as rapidly as my finger will allow, unloading the weapon into his fat torso and face. He bleeds, but doesn't react. Blood drips from the two holes in his forehead, down his chubby cheeks.<br>Gales of laughter bellowing from his gut, echoing off the walls.

"I'm going to enjoy this so much more knowing that you can't, but you thought that you could," he says, unholstering a handgun from his chair. "I'm going to kill you. Then I'm going to fuck your bride and kill her, too. Then I'll bring you back, and have you go back to work for me. And I'm going to love it, Sally."

He points the gun at me, and pulls the trigger.

Bang. 

* * *

><p><strong>I was created years ago. Put together with lead, a shell casing and gun powder, and packaged into a box and shipped out. In that box, with my brothers, I stayed for a few weeks, until finally, I saw light again.<strong>

**Light.**

**I was then carefully loaded into the magazine of this weapon. The weapon was cocked, and I was pulled into the chamber. Here, I've stayed for years. Laying dormant. Waiting to fulfill my purpose. To carry out god's will.**

**Today is my day.**

**When I felt my world shifting, I knew this.**

**I can see the light at the end of the tunnel when the hammer kicks me in the back, sending me flying from the weapon. Head first, I shoot out of the barrel, and light washes over me, blinding me as I rush towards my purpose, my goal.**  
><strong>Met with the wide left eye of a confused squirrel, I tear through her open ocular cavity and into her brain. Forcing my way through, losing little momentum as I break through the back of her skull and bounce off the wall, landing somewhere between her falling corpse and the crying hedgehog.<strong>

**I have fulfilled my purpose.**  
><strong>I can die happily now.<strong> 

* * *

><p>Heat splitting my skull replaced with a coldness I can't remember ever having felt before. The world around me melts as I fall into the abyss.<br>Skin melting away, flesh leaving me as my bones crumble. I am little more than a floating brain attached to a spinal chord at the stem. Glowing florescent blue, red, green, pink. Any color I could think of.

I hear the screams of the dead all around me.  
>All reaching for me, trying to destroy what's left of me. All envious of what I have and what they don't. In the distance of the void, I see a tiny speck of light, growing larger, webbing outwards all around me.<p>

The void speaks to me and asks me to make my choice.

My choice.

My choice...

I tell it yes. It's time to finish it. It's time to erase all the damage that's been done to you and I.  
>I tell it that it's time to correct the ways in which we've both been wronged.<p>

You and I.  
>The void and myself.<p>

We will have our day. I will accept your cold, loving embrace. But before that happens, I have some unfinished business to tend to. 

* * *

><p>My eyes are open.<br>One cannot see, but the other is strong enough for the both of them.

The lights overhead almost stinging my fragile vision, but I fight through it. I'm stronger than that.

Laughter. Robotnik's.  
>Crying. Amy's. I had no idea that she cared about me this much. Or even close to it.<p>

Sit up, and both cease.  
>Smile.<br>With some effort, I stand.

Robotnik's shocked expression is worth more than gold. I wish I could take a picture but that would never do it justice.  
>Feet kick into gear without command. I cackle as I approach him.<p>

Knees bend. Feet spring me upward at an angle, towards him.

In this moment, I consider every second I've suffered. Everything he made me do. Everything he made me feel. Every single second I played into his sick, dumbfucked game. And as I launch myself upwards, as I make eye contact with this fat fucker at his own level, without a thought in my head commanding it to do so, my right arm springs forward towards him. My hand in claw formation, breaking through his fragile face, skull cracking and face caving in. His blood splashing against my fur as my hand digs deeper, closing around it.  
>Withdraw, bringing back with me blood, skull and brain matter.<p>

I'm still cackling when he short-circuits and explodes.  
>I'm still laughing when I hit the ground. <p>

* * *

><p>"You know what we have to do?" I ask.<p>

"Yeah," she replies, nodding and looking away.

We have to make sure this never happens, ever again. 

* * *

><p>Hundreds of monitors surrounding us from every direction, possibly even thousands. Showing us outside from every angle of the Death Egg.<p>

"Are you ready?" I ask.

She nods.

Look forward.  
>The distant city lights of Mobotropolis getting closer and closer. Closing in more quickly than I expected on station square.<p>

Tilt the handle so that we start heading downwards at angle.

This is for all of you. My gift to this wretched city, to pull you all out of the disgusting funk you've been in for years.

Distinct buildings coming into focus, getting closer and closer.

This is for your boredom.

This is for your tedium.

This is for your daily lives that never change. That never get better. That never get worse.

This is for the static.

This is for the prey.

This is for the hunter.

This is for the day.

This is for the night.

This is for the sunrise.

This is for my city. Everything I ever wanted and never really got. Oh, sure, I got a taste. But that isn't what I wanted.

I wanted the whole thing.

This is for me as much as it is for you.

You'll understand when you're older. 

* * *

><p><strong>CRASH!<strong> 

* * *

><p>Stirring.<br>Headache. Splitting.

I need something. I need anything.

White.  
>White and grey.<p>

The snowy static of the monitors before me. The cameras just as broken as the city underneath us.

I cough up blood into my left hand.

"Did I do good?" she asks.

Struggle, a little. The safety belt of this chair holding me tightly into place. I reach down to my boot and draw the filet knife I keep on me at all times. Just in case.

It's all become so clear to me. I've grown up so much in just these past few seconds that even I have a hard time believing it.

I'm not a narcissist. Far from it. In fact, I actually hate myself and everything I've become quite a bit. But, this moment? Right now, I feel something I haven't felt since I was a child.

Pride.

"Yeah, Amy," I say. "You did O.K."

"I love you, Sally."

I turn to Amy. Her eyes wide, watering. The kind of look that breaks your heart and fixes it all at once. I lean in. Kiss her on the cheek, and then force the knife into her throat.  
>Her big green eyes fill with tears as she coughs up her own blood, choking on it. Trying desperately in vain to gurgle out one final I need you, but it's too late.<p>

It wouldn't have worked out anyway. 


End file.
